


you sing sweet music

by SebGray



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Broken Bones, F/M, Homelessness, Minor Violence, NB/NB, Nonbinary Character, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), bard!Caleb, bard!Jester, class swap, tiefling!Caleb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SebGray/pseuds/SebGray
Summary: Caleb used to be Bren, a tiefling bard training under the supposed master, Ikithon. Years after running away from his abusive teacher, Caleb is now hiding in Nicodranas, living on the streets. However, they get an opportunity from a stranger who happens to hear them play.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	you sing sweet music

In their dreams, Caleb was Bren again.

They dreamt of the last time they’d seen the small troupe they’d been in. The man they’d considered their master, their hero, staggering into their tent while they were busy practicing, drunk and smelling of vomit. Bren’s pointed ears perked up under their hair where they had hidden them under Ikithon’s orders. He had expected the man to tell them to shut the fuck up so he could get some sleep, but instead, Ikithon lunged towards Bren as Wulf and Astrid both stood with worry in their eyes. He’d been an ass when he got drunk after a day of performing, but the man had a vicious anger in his face like Bren had never seen before. He grabbed them up by the collar and pulled them to his face. For a guy who was scrupulous to the point of vanity, he smelled like the shittiest bar they’d ever been to times three. Ikithon growled, “What the fuck were you doing?” in a low voice hoarse with use, his Zemnian accent coming through heavily, thick and slurring.

“Singing, sir,” Bren said, nervously. Ikithon hated hearing them sing. He was the leader; he was the one who sang when they performed. But whenever Bren did it, it lit a certain match within him. They remembered the first day Ikithon couldn’t sing due to a rough illness, and funds had run low. He had expected the three of them would make enough for an inn, some food, maybe some medicine. Bren came back with triple the usual amount they got when performing as a group, and they weren’t even in the best part of town. Ever since, Ikithon had a grudge towards them like you wouldn’t believe.

“Why were you singing?” Ikithon bellowed.

“We were practicing, sir. Like you told us to.” Bren looked down. They were taller than he was, and with the way Ikithon held them, they were bent at an odd angle.

Ikithon pulled Bren out of the tent with the might of an old man with a mission, tossing them onto the ground like a rag doll. Bren’s tail was still in the harness, bent at its miserable angle, and they landed on it, hearing a terrible snap and feeling a sharp pain that they hadn’t felt since they’d fallen out of a tree when they were six and broke their leg. “You little fucking piece of shit!” The insult stung like the entirety of a migraine in the blink of an eye. Vicious Mockery. Bren knew the spell all too well. “You tell me what is the one thing I tell you not to do, you fucking demon!”

Bren tried to breathe, tried not to panic, but suddenly Ikithon was kicking them in the stomach, knocking the wind out of them. “Sing,” they croaked.

“Louder, you fucking shit!” Ikithon pulled them up by their hair, and they cried out in pain.

“Sing!” they exclaimed, wincing in pain. Ikithon dropped them suddenly, and their skull crashed against the ground.

“Ja, you little asshole. And what were you fucking doing?” Ikithon kicked them again. Bren tried to curl up to protect their stomach, but he only ended up kicking their hands, their shins, surely enough to bruise. Once, he hit them squarely in the nose, and once again Bren felt a snap and fierce pain.

Wulf and Astrid came out. Astrid exclaimed, “Trent, what the fuck are you doing?” and rushed to Bren’s side. Wulf tried to pull Ikithon back, but only got a hard punch to the cheek that knocked him down.

“I’ve had enough with this piece of shit!” he huffed to Astrid before turning back to Bren. “You think you’re so much better than me?” Another kick landed, but this time, Astrid was ready. She took her guitar, her precious, prized possession that her mother had made her, this thing that she adored, and handed it to Wulf as he got up. Wulf, with one heavy swing, slammed the guitar into Ikithon’s head with a crack, shattering the body and snapping the neck. Ikithon fell to his knees, then to his face, completely knocked cold.

Astrid was pale and anguished, but her voice was steadier than Bren had ever heard. “Wulf, you help them up. Let’s go before Trent wakes up.”

Wulf immediately got Bren to their feet. They were sore all over, their stomach and legs ached, their nose stung, but their tail hurt most of all. “My tail…” Wulf clambered to take off Bren’s shirt, not really caring much about their soft chest -- heaven knows the three had seen each other shirtless a million times in that tent -- before his nimble fingers focused on the crude harness made out of leather cords. It held their tail completely up, pressed against their body and winding up to their arm. The movements sent terrible pain down their tail and up their spine. Wulf found the area of the break, right where the tail was pressed up to Bren’s side. “How bad is it?” Caleb asked, wincing as he carefully examined it, no longer pressed up against their body.

“I don’t think it’s good, Bren,” Wulf said shakily. He cast Cure Wounds, and while it helped with some of the pain, not all of it was gone. "What about your nose?" Wulf asked.

"Bitte," Bren said, pinching their nose to stop the flow of blood. Another Cure Wounds, and the pain there was gone. Astrid's Prestidigitation cleaned up the blood.

“We have to go. Now.” Astrid said, gathering up all of their things and handed them to Wulf to help carry. She picked up her guitar, holding it for a moment like a dead friend, and slipped it into the Haversack she had stolen from Ikithon. Wulf helped pick up the remaining pieces while Bren put on their shirt. As soon as everything was ready, the three limped away, in search of somewhere safe.

And then Caleb woke up.

* * *

The alleyway they fell asleep in smelled of garbage and they didn’t want to think of what else. Gods, they felt sickened, but they had no money for an inn in this area. They were slowly starting to like Nicodranas, the eclectic buildings, the color, the food. But frankly, the place was made for the rich and those who worked for them. Caleb was never going to be the former, and at this point, they were not going to be the latter any time soon. Not when they smelled like a garbage can and couldn’t simper and smile without having a panic attack about showing off their fangs.

Until then, all they could do was beg. So they did. They went out to the street, Haversack slung on their back, before finding their usual spot along a busy thoroughfare. They had many good instruments for performances but they were all so distinctive. Someone could recognize a Zemnian guitar or violin or flute or tambourine. So they stuck to the tiny harmonica they had bought with whatever money they had scrounged up from the Haversack when they first came into Nicodranas. It wasn’t very impressive, and it kept their mouth busy so they couldn’t sing.

They still hated singing.

But, they could admit they were pretty damn good with a harmonica at this point. Many people passed by, some nice enough to pass them a few coins, mostly copper, sometimes a silver here or there. Enough for food. Enough to survive.

They saw tieflings pass through. Not as common as the humans, but definitely second or third. They wondered if they knew. If they could tell the pucker of their stomach underneath their shirt was a tail wrapped around their waist snugly like a belt. If they could see the little bumps on their head hidden by a mass of curls where the rest of their horns were, after they’d been filed down by Ikithon.

_ Let’s not think about him, shall we? _

Caleb had several songs down by rote memory, and never really properly stopped playing. They turned into a long loop of songs; one could not tell when one began and another ended. Unless you were Caleb, because Caleb knew.

No one ever said much to them besides a “hello,” maybe a “thank you for the music,” rarely anything more. Once or twice little children danced before them before parents brought them away. One of them, a pudgy little red tiefling with no horns yet, did a little Nicodranian dance of some sort before pulling a copper out of their pocket and dropping it in the small cup they had. “If I had any more, I would share it,” they said in clumsy Infernal. Caleb didn’t let on that they understood.

Hearing Infernal made them miss home. Miss their mother.

The crowds of people passing by trickled to a crawl, and Caleb took that as an opportunity to pick up their money and get some food. They dropped their coins into the Haversack -- they had been pickpocketed too many times to want to keep a coin purse -- and pulled out their copper wire, finding a secluded corner where no one could hear them. They cast Sending and told their mother, “Hallo. It’s Caleb. Still in Nicodranas. Safe. Earned some money playing music. Thought about you. Love you. Send Vater my love too. Miss you both.”

Caleb put their wire away, and as they were heading towards the nearest cheap tavern, got a response. “ _ Hallo, Caleb! So glad to hear from you. Proud you are still playing music. Vater loves you. We miss you so much. Please visit soon! _ ”

Their heart sank a little. They couldn’t, not when they only had a maximum of four hours worth of Disguise Self at a time. Even with their pseudo-human look, they were still distinct enough that Ikithon would recognize them. Ikithon’s voice rang through their skull. “ _ If any of you little shits ever leave, I’ll find and kill you myself. _ ”

At least they were safer in Nicodranas. Big cities meant they were harder to find.

As they turned the corner, preoccupied with putting their wire back in their bag, Caleb bumped into someone. While the person they collided with managed to stay on their feet, Caleb found themselves tumbling to the ground. In trying to catch themselves, they landed on their arm, twisting it painfully and making a noise that one really didn’t want to hear. As they landed, they heard a Nicodranian voice say, “Oh, fuck!” as two strong hands pulled them up by their unhurt arm. Caleb scrambled to their feet, but moving their left arm made it hurt like the time they broke their tail.

_ Don’t think about him _ , they thought briefly, trying not to backslide into panic as they got their bearings. The same voice from before said, “Oh, shit, your arm!” Caleb turned to see who was speaking. It was a short blue tiefling. Before Caleb could really assess them, though, they were grabbing at his arm, holding it tight as they mumbled a spell. Cure Wounds. They recognized the odd warmth as the spell ran through their arm, and they felt the injury fix itself. Beyond the sensation of the magic, their hands were rather cold, like they’d left them in a wintry lake for a while and then dried them off perfectly. Once the healing was done, they looked up at them with a smile. “See? All better.” Their grin was sweet, charming, and authentic, crinkling their eyes. All Caleb could respond with was a nervous nod as they started to pull away.

“Wait,” the blue tiefling said, blocking their way a bit.

“Hm?”

“You’re the harmonica guy, are you?” They had dangling jewelry on their short, curled horns that jingled a little when they moved their head.

“Uh...ja?” Caleb’s voice was a bit quiet from disuse -- the only times they had spoken were in rare, quiet whispers to Muter and Vater about their safety.

The tiefling smiled eagerly. Their eyes were wide and, as Caleb quickly noticed, a pretty violet color. “Do you play other instruments?”

Caleb froze a little. They technically could, but their instruments were too unique. Too obvious. “Ja, but I am out of practice.” It was the closest lie they could get to the truth; they hadn’t practiced those instruments in a long time, though their muscle memory was pretty damn good.

“Oh.” They had a look of slight disappointment, but then shrugged and continued, “Well, can you sing?”

The thought of doing that made their heart pang. “I don’t sing anymore,” they said curtly before turning to walk away.

“Wait!” The tiefling took their shoulder in a firm grip, but one that Caleb could easily break out of if they tried hard enough. “I can get you a job!”

Caleb almost pulled away then and there, but the mention of the job made them stop. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can we sit down to talk about it?” they asked. “I promise it’ll be worth your time!”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “How should I know? I have only just met you.”

With a smile, the tiefling let go of them and extended their hand. “I’m Jester Lavorre. What is your name?”

“Uh…” Caleb shook their hand carefully. “Caleb Widogast.” The last name was one they had taken from a book they had read as a child. Ermendrud was far from a common last name in Nicodranas. Speaking of last names...Caleb cocked their head and asked, in a low voice, “Did you say Lavorre? As in, Marion Lavorre?” It was impossible to be unaware of the Ruby of the Sea, Nicodranas’s crown jewel. She was one of the most famous bards in all of Wildemount. 

“Yep! That’s my mom! That was a part of what I wanted to talk about.”

Oh dear. Working for the Ruby of the Sea would be a dream. She was a master beyond Ikithon’s wildest imaginations. But it also would mean dozens of people would see them, talk about them, spread the word. But wouldn’t the Ruby want to protect her workers? They had passed by the Lavish Chateau before, seen all the guards. People of various races, all muscular as hell and armed like soldiers. If they worked for her, they’d be safer than on the streets, in front of everyone, with nothing but a knife and their spells to protect them.

They nodded. “I am listening.”

“Great!” Jester took their hand and led them to a really nice tavern, The Honeyed Badger. The place was a little busy at the moment, making Caleb a bit nervous, but Jester’s grip was...oddly comforting? They were strong, fairly muscular for their stature, and carried themselves with a confidence Caleb hadn’t seen in a long time.

They reminded them of Astrid, in a way.

But also, no, they really didn’t. Astrid was quiet and calculating, used to being in the background, not really saying a word until the time came. Jester said hello to everyone in the damn tavern in between the door and a table in the corner. The staff must’ve known them well; a barmaid came over before they could even sit. Jester asked about the kids, marvelling about how big Roland was when they’d last saw him, before the woman said, “Who’s this, a new  _ friend _ ?” Caleb caught the innuendo in that last word.

“No, no,” Jester said, laughing off the comment like a joke. “I’m just talking business.” Caleb wasn’t sure whether their brushing off the implication would’ve felt better than if they actually tried to turn it into a date. 

“Damn. Guess I’m not breaking out the wine, then, aren’t I?” the barmaid said, nudging Jester. They both laughed.

“Just some tea, please, Dani. And two meals, please. Make sure his is extra tasty.”

“You don’t have to--” Caleb started to protest.

Jester gave them a look and said, “You look like you haven’t eaten in a week. I’m buying you food.” Caleb shut up, knowing the type of firmness they were flashing. Astrid was like that. Very  _ shut-up-and-let-me-take-care-of-you _ .

They missed her.

“Alright, let me get you some,” said Dani, hurrying off to the kitchen.

With a slight sigh, Jester turned to Caleb and said, “Don’t mind her. She sees me with anyone and she thinks I’m dating them.” They leaned in and whispered, “I brought some friends here from the Chateau, and I’m pretty sure she thought I was going to have an orgy after we all had some drinks.”

Caleb felt their cheeks warm and smiled a little.

“Anyways, speaking of. I’ve heard your music for a while, now. I’ve seen you play. You’re really good. A bunch of my friends say asking you to work at the Chateau is kind of silly, but I can tell you’re really talented by how you play. And I remember you when you first came in, I think. You got your harmonica from the music shop, right? Twenville’s or whatever?”

“Twinvaille’s, ja,” Caleb nodded.

“I go there all the time! I think I saw you. You bought the music book and the harmonica, right?”

“Ja.” Caleb was remembering them now. They weren’t talking, really, just paging through the piles of music sheets Twinvaille’s had for a copper a piece. They were surprised Jester had even noticed them.

“Well, I noticed you never use it when you’re playing. Even at the start. And I saw you reading it when you left the store. So I figured you must’ve learned from it really quickly. And I thought, well, wouldn’t you be able to do that with other instruments? I know the harmonica isn’t the most complex instrument, but it’s hard to play it as well as you do, I think.”

Caleb shrugged. “I suppose. I have always been good at learning music, but that is not nearly special enough to warrant working with your mother, is it?”

“I mean, we are scrounging for a good musician. The other person Mama was teaching, Molly, decided to go out on their own. Joined a circus that came through here last week. They liked working with Mama, but staying in place just isn’t their thing. But now, we need someone new. Mama wanted me to choose since I’m taking over her performing business when she retires. It won’t be for a while, of course, she’s  _ really young  _ still, but she’d rather start training me now, you know?”

“But why me?” Caleb furrowed their brow, confused. 

Jester opened their mouth to speak, then paused, stopped, fiddling with her fingers a little. “I don’t know how to word it. I can just sort of...tell you’re a good choice. I don’t know why, exactly. Maybe it’s  _ destiny _ .” They made a little explosion gesture with their fingers, whispering the final word like she was trying to be mystical. It came out a little goofy.

Dani came with their drinks and food, and Caleb looked down at it. It was...very nice looking. Far finer than any other type of food they’d had since...ever, really. Even with Ikithon and his finery, his apprentices only ever got the scraps.

Jester, meanwhile, dug in. The meal was a nice seafood based meal with shrimp, fish, and a few local vegetables. They didn’t really touch their ale though. Caleb hesitantly drank. It was the first kind they’d ever tried that hadn’t tasted like piss.

“You like it?” Jester asked. “I don’t really drink too much, to be honest, but I like the ale here.”

“Ja, it is gut,” Caleb said, drinking some more. They hadn’t had alcohol in ages.

“Try the fish. Eat up. No offense, but you’re so skinny. Mama would be very sad if she found out I hadn’t fed you.”

Caleb shrugged and took the fork, eating some of the food hesitantly.

They could’ve  _ cried _ , it tasted so good. Their palate was so limited they really couldn’t describe what flavor was the one they liked. Caleb forced themselves to go slow as they ate, knowing if they did what they wanted and wolfed it down, they’d throw it back up in a minute or two, and they didn’t want to lose this meal.

“It’s really good, isn’t it?” Jester whispered, smiling. “I love the food here. I mean, the food at the Lavish Chateau is  _ really _ good, too. I’m good friends with the chef, Caduceus? He’s really sweet. But the food here is amazing, too. You’re gonna be  _ really _ well-fed.”

Caleb grinned slightly. “Will you provide room and board, or will I have to find a place to sleep when I get paid?”

“I mean, I would say you could live wherever, but I’ve seen you sleep on the streets. Mama would want you to board with us. We’ve got a spare room next to mine. It’s not as nice as my room, and especially not like her room or any of the other rooms in the Chateau, unfortunately, but I hope you’ll like it.”

Safety, food, a place to sleep, and a job? Caleb was dangerously close to getting their hopes up. “Would I have to audition?”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ll ace it. You said you have more instruments, right? Could you pick them up again quickly? There’s only so much we could do with a harmonica.”

“Oh, ja, it just might take a little bit.” They took off their Haversack, which had them slumped awkwardly over when they sat in the chair. Caleb pulled out a flute made of simple wood. It was kind of cheap, a little dinged up, but Ikithon bought it for them when he stopped wanting them to sing. However, Astrid had carved it with traditional Zemnian designs. Seeing it made their heart twinge a bit. After a moment of remembering where to place their hands -- muscle memory or no, it  _ had _ been a while -- Caleb managed to play a low tune, a segment of a lullaby they’d learned when they were first practicing. 

Jester clapped. “That’s lovely!”   
  


Caleb shrugged. “Not as good as I used to be. I’d have to do some practice to get up to snuff.”

“You have anything else?”

They weren’t playing the guitar or violin anytime soon -- that felt like sacrilege at the moment. But they pulled out the tambourine and showed it to her. “I can play this, too.”

Jester took it, examining it. This was a finely crafted thing, made with a painted design on the leather that was getting worn and cracked with age, and engraving along the sides of the wood. The little cymbals were dulled a bit, but as they played it a little, it was clear that it was a good instrument still. “It’s beautiful, Caleb,” they said with a grin.

“I’ll have to get it touched up a bit though, if I’m going to perform with it.” Caleb then frowned. “How soon do you want me to audition?”

“I mean, as soon as possible of course, but you can take time to practice. I got plenty of money, so I can get you a room in an inn and whatever food and drink you want, and you can work on practicing without having to make money to survive. Plus, you can get a bath.” They leaned in and whispered, “I don’t think you’ll want to meet my mom smelling like that.”

Caleb nodded, ears twitching, thankful for their ragged mane of hair covering them. “Alright. Thank you. You don’t have to.”

“No problem!” Jester grinned widely. “I  _ want _ you to succeed, Caleb. Maybe I can help you practice? I know a bunch of songs my mom likes. Knowing those will definitely get you bonus points in your favor.”

“Okay.” Caleb’s chest felt like it was about to drift towards the ceiling. They almost couldn’t believe it. Was this some sort of ruse to trick them, or was Jester all they really claimed to be?

Jester grinned. “Yeah! I can’t wait! I’m sure you’re going to be  _ amazing _ .” For the rest of their meal, Jester chattered all about the Lavish Chateau and how wonderful it was, how amazing of a singer their mama was, how certain they were that Caleb would do well.

Caleb was terrified to let them down.   
  


But what choice did they have, really?


End file.
